Sentier des Toblerones or The Toblerone Trail

13.6.14
Walking with; Nobody

  The days since my ML assessment have been filled with the mundane duties of trying to arrange professional insurance, build a new website, get a DBS check and generally doing all sorts of things that involved sitting in my living room and not being out in the countryside, so it was with some relief that I managed to inveigle myself onto Mrs H work trip to Switzerland. I knew I wasn't going to have the time to get up into the big mountains but a bit of research on the internet bought up this interesting sounding historical wander just outside Geneva and easily accessible by the excellent Swiss rail network.
   The Toblerone Line was a defensive fortification built during the Second World War by the Swiss and with each of the concrete pieces being shaped like the distinctive pieces of Switzerland's best known chocolate bar! There are over 2500 of these blocks lined up along the route and with each weighing around 9 tons, the construction of the defensive line was clearly a considerable undertaking. The trail starts in the Jura mountains and leads all the way down to the shores of Lake Geneva and then on into the town of Nyon. I had decided to walk the last section from Gland to Nyon and after hopping off the train the route made a distinctly unpromising start as it led me through an industrial estate. Soon afterwards though the pathway cut across a poppy spotted field and I was up alongside the first of the toblerones on a lovely forest path that traced the line of the defence all the way down to the famous Villa Rose. The Villa Rose was a Swiss fortification disguised to appear as an ordinary farmhouse but in reality it was a military base and the ground floor hid a number of gun emplacements. After the Villa Rose the path led me through the immaculately manicured Gland golf course. I am slightly ambivalent about golf courses, they are beautifully maintained pieces of land but strangely soulless and, more often than not, the preserve of the wealthy, elite few. This one at least seemed to have plenty of wild areas left full of wild fowers and butterflies, but it was a strangely sterile environment. Eventually I left the golf course behind me and emerged on the shores of the magnificent Lake Geneva.
   The lake is one of the largest in Western Europe and affords some magnificent mountain views and I paused for a while to watch the Grebes, Swans and Ducks on the water and the Black Kites soaring overhead. The path led away from the defensive line and up into the town of Prangins where the National Museum of Switzerland is housed in the Chateau Prangins and fronted by an impressive kitchen garden. I continued through the town passing fields of vines running down towards the lake before emerging at Nyon station. Nyon is a pleasant town with another chateau looking out over the lake and a number of pleasant places to eat and drink. The train back to Geneva was waiting and I was able to reflect on a very pleasant wander along an historic monument in Mediterranean conditions. Now, when can I head back and have a go at some of those big mountains!

To view the full album please click on the link below;
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.906823099333645.1073741868.597048676977757&type=1 

The return ofthe errant photos-1066 country wanderings

I've found the photos from my 1066 wanderings and here are a few of them!

To view the full, now found, album please click on the link below;
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Nostalgic wanderings in 1066 country

23/24.8.13
Walking with; Nobody

A trip down South to the place that I will always think of as home, the village of Crowhurst where I was bought up, went to school, where my Mum is buried and my Dad still lives, a place where I will always feel happy. Crowhurst is situated in the heart of 1066 country and the magnificent ancient Yew in the churchyard of St George's is rumoured to have been mentioned in the chronicles of Norman as part of a gruesome tale of retribution when the Reeve of the village was hung for not revealing the whereabouts of local treasure. The village is also home to Forewood, an RSPB nature reserve and Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). The woods are noted for their sandstone ghylls, the profusion of Bluebells in early Spring and their ancient bell pits used in a primitive form of mining.
Woodland walking is very different from walking in the hills. It has a spooky enclosedness about it, it can be dark and a little eerie, but it still has, in a very different way, a real sense of being in the wild. There are birds in amongst the canopy, mysterious rustlings in the fallen leaves and undergrowth and brambles snatching at you as you negotiate the muddy ditches where the coppicers tractors have passed. I followed the trail from the top entrance of the wood leading down towards the pond where my Mum's memorial bench is. Wrens hopped in and out of the scrub and a Jay shrieked noisily as I passed. The pond, flanked by Flag Irises seemed much smaller than I remembered and, sadly, there was no wildlife to be seen. Leaving the woods I crossed the fields, the rolling Sussex countryside that defines this part of England and, in fact, so much of the rural landscape of the Home Counties. I made my way through the drizzle to St George's Church, passing the ruined manor house built by Walter de Scotney in 1250. The original church was built in 1412 and the tower remains in place til today. I sheltered from the rain in the porch before making my way through the village lanes and back towards my family home. This was not an adventure, an expedition or a challenge, more a nostalgic, gentle ramble down memory lane.
I'd been waiting to post this until I had taken the photos off my memory card, but I've just checked it and it is utterly empty......tech fail.....so there you go!